


Wash Me

by pure1magination



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Cock Tease, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sensual Play, Showers, Touching, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3444839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pure1magination/pseuds/pure1magination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Bucky is a little shit and pretends he's forgotten how to bathe himself, and in which Steve is magnanimous enough to teach him how to do it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wash Me

**Author's Note:**

> Sam has a brief appearance. There is no threesome in this fic.

"Steve?" Sam began seriously, trying to break this to him as easily as he could.

"Yeah Sam?"

"It's wonderful that you've found him, and that you're reunited and all that, but... I think it's time he had a bath."

Steve winced. Bucky was eating an orange savagely in the kitchen, juice running all down his chin, greasy hair tied back in a low ponytail. Strings of greasy hair clung to his sweaty face. His tank top was stained under the armpits. His dark grey sweatpants hung low on his hips.

He was pretending not to listen.

"Yeah," Steve agreed, eyeing the curve of Bucky's rump; Bucky was resting his weight on one elbow on the table, leaning over and subsequently jutting out his rear.

Bucky licked off his fingers one at a time.

Steve pressed his lips together for a moment, wondering how to approach this subject. He gave Bucky another moment to (very distractingly) lick off his fingers before pushing himself up off the couch and striding into the kitchen. "Hey, Buck."

"Hey Steve," Bucky replied automatically.

"Um, Bucky?" Steve began, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "There's something I gotta talk to you about."

Bucky slowly pulled the last juicy finger out of his mouth, sucking off every last sweet, tangy drop of orange juice. "Yeah?" he murmured, feigning disinterest.

Steve cleared his throat. "Yeah. Uh.. Look, I know this has been hard for you, this..  _readjusting_ and all that, but Sam and I have noticed-- well,  _I've_ noticed-- what I'm trying to say is.. Bucky, you need to take a bath." _  
_

Bucky blinked at him. Steve was a sight, crammed into that too-small cotton t-shirt and those loose fitting blue sweats. It's almost as if Steve didn't know how to dress his new body, never got the knack for it.

Bucky is fine with that.

"I don't take baths," Bucky deadpanned. "I take showers."

Steve frowned and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Pink spots bloomed on his cheekbones. "All right, then you need to take a  _shower."_

The corner of Bucky's mouth twitched, but other than that his expression remained impassive. "...I don't know how."

Steve met his eyes. "You don't know how?"

Bucky stared back at him. 

Sympathy flooded Steve's eyes, old anger (at Hydra), concern (for Bucky), and, finally, resolve. "I can show you."

Bucky pretended to consider this for a moment, faked The Soldier's habit of running through all possible scenarios and contingencies, gaze going blank and distant, calculating... He nodded, granting permission.

Steve inhaled deeply and let out a huff of breath through his nose. "Do you have clean clothes to change into?"

Again, Bucky nodded.

"Let's start with those."

They headed to Bucky's room, which- in defiance of Hydra- was a complete mess. Clothes and garbage were strewn everywhere. Blankets, pillows, and various other soft things were balled up and piled on his bed, which was off-center, the mattress askew. Bucky dug through a pile in one corner and produced a shirt and a pair of pants.

Steve frowned skeptically. "That's  _clean?"_

Bucky rolled his eyes and held it up for Steve to smell.

Steve gave it a sniff. It smelled of cashmere and lavender, Bucky's new favorite laundry soap. "All right," Steve granted, "it's clean." He was still frowning though.

Bucky raised an eyebrow in a silent  _What?_ _  
_

"Underwear?"

"All dirty," Bucky deadpanned. There was, in fact, clean underwear somewhere in that pile-- probably-- but Bucky wasn't in a mood to dig for it right now. Besides, those pants were soft. He didn't mind going commando.

Steve sighed. "Fine." He handed Bucky his clothes and headed out to the hallway, where he opened the linen cabinet and took out a towel and washcloth. "You remember how to use these, right?"

Bucky shook his head 'no', keeping his expression blank.

Steve narrowed his lips. "Right." He carried the towel and washcloth and led them to the bathroom. He set the towel down on the countertop next to the sink and sat down on the edge of the tub. He waited until Bucky was looking, then walked him through how to use the faucet.

Bucky stared at him blankly, a thin line between his eyebrows.

Frustration was beginning to build as Steve kept asking Bucky if he was following, as Steve tried to explain slower, showed him again and again which was the soap and which was the shampoo and what to do with them and how to know when he was clean, and finally Bucky cut him off and said, "Why don't you just show me?"

Steve stared at him for a few beats, surprise lighting his eyes. He glanced at Bucky's chest, then his abs, then back up at his face. "You're right," he admitted, mouth twitching into a resigned smile, "That would probably be easier. Here, let me grab a towel."

Steve went out into the hallway and grabbed himself a towel out of the linen cabinet.

Sam gave him a thumbs-up, eyebrows raised in question, eyes darting to the bathroom.

Steve gave him an answering thumbs-up and a nod.

Sam grinned. "I'm going out for a bit," he announced. "Natasha wants me to meet her at the grocery store."

"All right," Steve called after him as Sam gathered his keys and headed to the front door, "See you later, Sam!"

"Later!" Sam called. The front door closed behind him.

Steve took another deep breath and headed to the bathroom. He was greeted by an already-naked Bucky.

Steve jumped and shielded his eyes, blushing.

Bucky tilted his head to the side, feigning confusion. "It's nothing you haven't seen before," he pointed out.

Steve lowered his hand from his eyes, recovering from his shock. "It's--  _different,"_ Steve defended himself lamely.  _Why is it different?_ he wondered.

"Shouldn't you be naked too?" Bucky pointed out, ignoring that statement. He mentally congratulated himself on how blank and innocent his voice sounded just now.

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "One moment. Here, just-- watch me do this, okay?" He beckoned Bucky over to the faucet and demonstrated how to turn it on, how to find the proper temperature, and how to adjust it.

Bucky waited, watching Steve.

Steve resigned himself to undressing while Bucky was watching, until he got down to his underwear- "Could you turn around?"

"Why?" Bucky asked blankly.

Steve sighed. "Just do it?"

Bucky thought this was unnecessary. Nevertheless, he turned around. "We're both gonna be naked anyway," he muttered.

"I know!" Steve snapped. "It's just-  _weird."_

"What's weird?" Bucky asked, turning back around. Steve was naked now. Bucky's eyes roamed shamelessly, but he carefully kept his expression blank.

Steve comically tried to cover his modesty. "Getting undressed in front of someone! Okay?"

Bucky tilted his head to the side, interest sparking in his eyes. "You still a virgin, Stevie?"

Steve turned beet red. "I'm 96, I'm not dead!" Steve got into the shower. "You coming or not!"

Bucky smirked. He stepped into the shower and closed the glass door behind him. He stared expectantly at Steve.

Steve was standing under the warm spray. "First thing you do," he instructed, trying to remain calm, and above all trying not to be distracted by Bucky's naked body, "is stand under the water, until you're completely wet, all over."

Bucky's eyes roamed over Steve's wet, glistening muscles. He carefully schooled the amusement off his face, going instead for 'interested, but clueless.' "Like this?" Bucky joined Steve under the spray.

Steve quickly jumped away, as though stung by an invisible wasp. "Yeah!" he agreed. "Like that."

Bucky closed his eyes and tilted his head back under the warm spray, letting the water cascade down his shoulders, down his back... He'd forgotten how peaceful it felt, to take a good, long shower. He hadn't done this in  _years._

Once his hair was completely soaked through, Bucky leveled his chin and opened his eyes once more. "Now what?"

Steve cleared his throat. "Now," he said, seriously as he could manage, "You use shampoo." He grabbed a bottle of shampoo off the shower ledge- one Bucky had picked out; it was lavender-scented- and squirted some into his hand. "You're going to need more than me, because you have more hair." He handed the bottle to Bucky.

Bucky stared at the bottle cluelessly. "How do I know how much I need?" he asked, watching Steve lather up his hair. He particularly appreciated the way Steve's triceps bulged and flexed, the way his pecs bounced just the slightest bit, the way a stray trail of suds ran down past one of his nipples.

Steve sighed. "Do you want me to do it for you?"

Bucky contemplated the bottle, looked at Steve, and nodded.

"All right." Steve stepped closer, expression serious, eyes hooded by those thick, sinful lashes. He held one of Bucky's hands and cupped it so he could hold the shampoo, then squirted a generous amount onto his palm. The thick purple gel felt cool on his palm.

Steve set the bottle back on the ledge and brought Bucky's palms together, guiding them slowly so that they were coated in shampoo. Then he brought Bucky's hands up and, covering Bucky's hands with his own, massaged the shampoo into Bucky's scalp.

Eventually, Bucky's hands dropped to his sides, and Steve's fingers worked Bucky's hair into a lather. Bucky's eyes flickered closed in pleasure, his face a mask of pure relaxation.

"Then," Steve continued, voice low, "You rinse it."

"Show me," Bucky replied, voice equally low.

Steve stepped under the spray and scrubbed the suds out of his own hair, then beckoned for Bucky to join him.

Bucky stepped under the spray and just stood there, hands at his sides. Suds ran down his face. He closed his eyes tighter to keep the suds out.

Steve stepped closer and sensually massaged the shampoo out of Bucky's hair, calmly talking him through how to tell when it's all out.

"Now you use conditioner," Steve instructed, backing away half a step. "I don't use conditioner, because my hair is so short, but Natasha said you should since yours is longer." Steve pulled the matching lavender conditioner off the shelf. "This stuff says to leave it in your hair for a few minutes, so after we put it in, you're gonna soap up. All right?"

That narrow little line appeared over Bucky's nose again. "Soap up?"

Steve closed his eyes. "Yeah. You've gotta wash your body."

"Oh," Bucky said blankly.

Steve narrowed his lips, conditioner in-hand, and pulled Bucky out from under the spray. "I'm not sure how much to use," he admitted, "but I'm sure you'll figure it out." He squirted some into Bucky's hand, rubbed Bucky's hands together again, and set the conditioner on the shelf. "Think you can handle this one?"

When he looked back, Bucky was staring cluelessly at the whitish gel-like substance on his hands. "It feels weird," he complained.

"I know," Steve replied shortly, eyes averted. "Just put it in your hair."

Bucky tentatively worked the conditioner into his hair, deciding that he liked shampoo much better.

"Now the soap," Steve said with what almost sounded like relief.

Bucky stared at him expectantly.

Steve produced a bottle of soap- another one Bucky had picked out, Caress 'Adore Forever', which came in a feminine black bottle and was supposed to smell like roses and musk- and poured a generous amount onto the washcloth. He talked Bucky through what he was doing, and how to rub the soap into a lather while still on the washcloth before the cloth ever touched his body, but honestly Bucky wasn't really listening, mostly he was watching the way Steve's muscles moved while he lathered the soap, the way his lips moved while he talked, listening to the familiar cadence and pitch of his voice that he'd missed so much.

"Ready?" Steve asked, and Bucky's blank expression was genuine this time because he had no idea what Steve was asking if he was ready for.

This was apparently the right answer, as Steve sighed and closed the distance between them, pressed the washcloth into Bucky's hand, and guided Bucky's hand over his own body so that Bucky was soaping himself up.

Steve's motions were slow and sensual; he talked all the while he was doing it, running Bucky's hand over the shapes and bumps of his muscles, his smooth water-slick skin, over the body hair that had begun to grow back after years of being waxed by Hydra. Steve was privately glad about this; he'd always loved Bucky's chest hair.

It wasn't long into soaping up Bucky that he noticed Bucky wasn't really trying to wash himself; he seemed content to let his hands glide passively over his body while Steve talked him through it. As Steve stepped behind Bucky- the most practical angle- and ran Bucky's hand, and the washcloth, over his chest, down his abs.. Steve was glad he was standing behind Bucky, because if Bucky looked down-- but then  _Steve_ looked down, because as he was running Bucky's hand over his lower abs, something bumped against his hand.

Steve stared down over Bucky's shoulder at the large, uncut shaft eagerly straining against the back of his hand. Steve gulped. His own breathing picked up. Bucky's eyes were still closed.

He washed around the area, taking his time, running the washcloth over his hips, around his upper thighs.

Bucky cracked an eye open. "I think you're missing something, Steve."

Steve's heart stumbled. He bit his lip. "Well... Since I'm cut, I don't wash mine quite the same... but if I remember right, you.. you wash it like this..." Steve brought Bucky's hand, and the washcloth, to the base of his erection. He delicately squeezed the sudsy washcloth over Bucky's balls, one at a time. Bucky inhaled shakily and leaned his head back against Steve's shoulder. Steve worked the washcloth carefully under and around the loose skin, washing every inch of the twin globes, before delicately running it up the underside. Bucky bit his lip. The washcloth hovered for a moment, Steve breathed hotly near the side of his neck, and then Steve was bringing their hands down gently over the tip, using gentle pressure to ease back the foreskin with the soapy washcloth.

Bucky shuddered. A generous bead of precum leaked out the slit. Steve wiped it away with the washcloth. Bucky's mouth fell open. A quiet moan escaped him as Steve worked the washcloth over and around his shaft, guiding Bucky's fingers, gently but thoroughly washing his uncut shaft.

As soon as Steve moved the washcloth away, Bucky tried to pull his hand back.

Steve made a dissenting noise and pointed out he had to wash the rest of Bucky's body. "I still gotta get your back, your legs--"

"But that was the best part!" Bucky whined.

"And I'm sure you'll have fun washing it later," Steve ground out, face red as he made quick work of Bucky's back and stepped around in front of him to wash his legs, his own erection bobbing out in front of him, "but right now we have to get you clean." He squatted in front of Bucky and washed his legs, certain by now that Bucky knew how to wash himself.

"Don't you need to wash yourself too?"

"No, I took a shower this morning."

"You washed your hair," Bucky pointed out.

"Yeah- to show  _you_ how to do it!" Steve snapped. "I'm beginning to think I must be an awful teacher, because you don't seem to be getting this at all!"

Bucky gave him a wounded look. "I just... All those years working for Hydra... I was never myself... They never gave me a chance to shower, a chance to get clean... They'd wash me when they had to, but was always so quick, so rough... They used cold water..." He looked utterly dejected. "I just thought, it would be nice, for once, to not have that..."

Steve was standing in front of him now, feeling like a gigantic asshole. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "...I'm sorry," he said after a long moment. He rinsed the washcloth under the warm spray, facing partially away from Bucky. He was acutely aware of Bucky's eyes on him as he set the washcloth down. He turned to face him. "But if you wanted me to do this, all you had to do was ask."

Bucky eyed him for a moment, uncertain. "Really?'

"Really," Steve confirmed. He held out a hand; Bucky grasped it; Steve pulled him under the spray. "Now let's get you rinsed off."

"Don't I do that by just standing under the water?" Bucky pointed out with mixed uncertainty and disappointment.

Steve's mouth cracked into a lopsided smile. "Not if you wanna do it  _right."_ His voice rumbled deep in his chest as he pulled Bucky closer and ran his hands over his skin. Bucky's eyelids fluttered shut as Steve's large, warm hands explored his soap-slick body. Steve nuzzled Bucky's shoulder tenderly as his hands worked lower down Bucky's abdomen, caressing his abs, running down the sides of his hips, towards the center, then away again, over and over, slow and sensual. Bucky's breathing picked up. Steve dragged a hand along Bucky's inner thigh, then across the top of his thigh again, away... He repeated the action with both hands, toward, then away...

Finally, Steve set about rinsing off Bucky's cock. Bucky moaned. The way Steve's hands slid over the soap-slick skin, the way he pulled the stretchy foreskin forward and back, the way he rolled his fingers along the underside of the head-- and all the while, Steve was carefully keeping his own hips back, not touching Bucky with the erection Bucky  _knew_ he had; Steve's cheek was too warm against the side of his neck, his breaths too ragged and hot against his chest, for Steve  _not_ to be just as aroused as he was right now.

Steve's lips swept a slow, hot trail up the side of Bucky's neck before he pulled away and said, voice a little shaky, "I think the soap's gone now."

"Yeah," Bucky said, "How 'bout that." He eyed Steve hungrily. Steve was utterly gorgeous, pupils blown, eyelids at half-mast, lips deep pink and swollen, parted, just begging to be kissed-- 

Steve turned off the shower and opened the door. He stepped out, grabbed his towel. "Think you can figure out how to dry off?" he asked, already drying himself off.

"Yeah," Bucky replied before he could think. He regretted saying that a moment later when he stepped out of the tub and saw Steve, naked, skin flushed, bent over, towel-drying his hair. When he straightened, his hair was boyish and messy, sticking out in all directions, towel held loosely in front of his godly chest. His pupils were still large, lips still parted.

"..Buck?"

"Yeah," Bucky said vacantly.

Steve smirked and handed Bucky a fresh towel. Bucky held it and stared helplessly as Steve got dressed. He mourned the loss of every inch of skin as it was covered with the soft material of his outfit. "I think you can figure the rest out on your own," Steve said, hanging his towel up to dry. With that, he left the room.

Bucky blinked at the closed door. He wanted to throw his towel down in frustration. He'd been  _so close-!_   _  
_

But no. He should have known. Steve thought he was doing him a favor.

Maybe, Bucky thought as he toweled himself dry, the next thing he ought to tell Steve he's forgotten how to do is have sex. Maybe  _that_ will be the obvious hint Steve needs to get his ass in gear.


End file.
